Tight Threads

Because we moved here with all of our essential possessions in checked baggage, our wardrobe is rather limited. Early on, after suffering through futilely line drying our clothes in these damp environs, we broke down and bought an electric dryer.

If you're looking for white goods, TodiMax is the place to shop in Hanoi. Yes, we bought a major appliance in this brief sojourn to Vietnam. The first load of laundry, in all its familiar static-ky warmth, out of the dryer, quickly confirmed that this was the best way for us to spend 6 million VND (or $400 if you're counting at home).

Even with a dryer though, I was still short of dress pants. I brought along only a few suits so I needed fortification. Locals tend to wear the same clothes a few times a week.. I just couldn't do that, in part 'cause I sweat early and often.

So off to the tailors I went, with reminders that HCMC tailors are much better than their northern brethren. I should've heeded the warnings, and booked a flight to Saigon instead.

People here, be they a 50 year old grandmother, a 40 year old xe om driver, or, more appropriately, a 20something lass, wear some tight arsed clothes. Particularly pants. Nearly everyone's thigh looks like a xu xich (nee sausage).

With all the squatting on little plastic stools, the wrangling over motos, the incessant heat, one would figure a looser cut is preferred. Nope, and I dunno why.

Long story short, I paid a healthy sum for some pants that illustrate the difference between local tastes and my own. Sucks to be me, but at least my boys can breathe. Anyone want some pants?